His Secret Starlight Baby Read online

  “Do you want to go on a road trip with your daddy?” She lifted her son into her arms and cradled him close. Ben made a high-pitched squealing sound.

  “Sounded like a yes to me,” Jordan told her.

  “Okay,” she said. “We can work out plans for coparenting on the drive.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “I left most of my nice clothes in Atlanta,” she told him, trying not to sound bitter. “So my wardrobe choices are limited. If it’s a fancy wedding—”

  “It’s not.” Jordan turned to gaze out the picture window that overlooked the pond behind his house and then back to her. “It’s a funeral. My father’s funeral.”

  Chapter Four

  Jordan winced as a bony elbow jabbed him in the ribs later that night. “Hey,” he protested. “Unnecessary roughness.”

  Tanya Mehall, Trophy Room’s primary bartender, arched a brow as she turned her back on the customers sitting at the bar to face him. “You’re scaring people with tonight’s perma-scowl,” she said in a low voice. “I’ve got enough to handle with the attitude coming from the kitchen. You need to fix your face.”

  Before he could answer, she lifted a hand and patted his cheek. “Let’s see those dimples, boss,” she commanded, then moved around him to pour a round of pints for a group near the end of the well-worn mahogany bar.

  Tanya was a Starlight native, a few years older than Jordan. From all accounts, she’d spent her teen years babysitting almost every kid in town. Although she remained single, she liked mothering people—customers and coworkers alike.

  But she was wrong about Jordan. He didn’t scare people, not anymore. A quick glance around the bar’s crowded interior had him swallowing back a sigh. The regulars facing him seemed to be collectively attempting not to make eye contact, like they were nervous about how he might react if they had the audacity to meet his gaze.

  Damn. He needed to fix his face.

  Drawing in a deep breath, he forced a smile and stepped forward. It only took a few minutes of small talk for the line of customers to visibly relax. They discussed the game broadcasting from the television hanging behind the bar, and Jordan made a point to ask Ray Monning about his new grandchild, a girl who had been born the previous week.

  That launched his crew of regulars into a heated discussion about whether girls or boys were tougher to raise. Jordan found himself listening with more interest than usual. He wondered in what ways Ben would challenge him. His son. Of course, he didn’t mention the bombshell that had been dropped into his lap the previous night, although people around town would learn about it soon enough, especially if he convinced Cory to stay.

  He had to convince her to stay. Jordan might still be reeling at the thought of being a father, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t committed to figuring out how to manage it.

  He’d already ordered a half dozen books on parenting and had spent most of the afternoon watching instructional online videos on everything from diaper changing to developmental milestones. He was going to get this right on some level.

  Nick Dunlap, Starlight’s police chief, appeared at the far end of the bar and lifted a hand to wave at Jordan, who nodded in response. It was Thursday, which meant Nick was picking up dinner for his fiancée, Brynn, and her son, Tyler. With a ten-year-old boy and a baby daughter at home, the couple rarely spent much time in the bar, but Brynn was a bit addicted to the Trophy Room wings, which Jordan appreciated.

  “I’m going to grab Nick’s food,” Jordan told Tanya as he headed for the kitchen.

  “Keep smiling and tell Madison not to make anyone else cry tonight.”

  “Someone cried?” Jordan asked automatically, then shook his head. “Do I want to know?”

  “Probably not. Smile,” Tanya repeated.

  Simple, Jordan told himself as he entered the bar’s refurbished kitchen. He could keep his life simple and his emotions on an even keel, despite the changes.

  “Are you having a good night?” he asked Colleen, one of the servers, as she placed plates on a large serving tray.

  She glanced up at him, then over her shoulder, and rolled her eyes. “Sure,” she said, sounding totally unconvincing.

  “Her customers would have a better night if she could get the lead out,” a feminine voice said from behind the industrial range positioned on the far side of the kitchen. “No one wants lukewarm burgers.”

  Colleen flashed a patently fake smile. “That’s my cue.” She moved past Jordan, muttering under her breath as she went.

  “No one is complaining.” He walked forward until he faced his surly chef, then flinched as Madison Maurer fixed him with a glare that could sear a rib eye. He’d hired the edgy blonde chef despite her spotty résumé. There were periods of unemployment, and she readily admitted she’d left at least one former job because she didn’t get along with the restaurant’s owner.

  But the caliber of kitchen she’d cooked in throughout the Pacific Northwest was stellar, and she had five-star reviews to spare. He hadn’t delved into why she wanted a job running a bar kitchen, but he was glad she had. With her skill and creativity, Madison had improved Trophy Room’s menu. Unfortunately, they were going to run out of potential servers for that food if she continued to scare off his staff.

  “Because people in this town are too nice.” Madison Maurer gave an order to one of the kitchen workers, then stepped closer to Jordan. “That doesn’t excuse lack of effort.”

  “Colleen makes an effort,” Jordan countered. “Everyone on staff does. We should make sure we appreciate and recognize that effort.”

  Madison narrowed her icy blue eyes at him. “Tanya got to you.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you make someone cry?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Danny, one of the line cooks, poked his head around the fryer. “She told that new waitress you hired she was a waste of space.”

  Jordan groaned. “Where is Samantha now?”

  “She quit,” Danny offered. “That’s why Colleen is so frazzled.”

  “Everyone knows you have to have thick skin to work in the restaurant industry,” Madi grumbled. “I did you a favor.”

  “Not so much,” Jordan said, shaking his head. “Right now I need Nick’s food. I’m heading out for a couple of days tomorrow. We’ll discuss this in more detail when I get back.”

  Madison’s full mouth pressed into a thin line as she handed him a large brown paper bag. “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about. I put extra sauce in the bag because Brynn likes her wings wet.”

  “We’ll discuss your opinion, as well,” Jordan told her. “Thanks for taking care of Brynn.”

  “See.” Madi held up her hands, palms out. “I’m all about customer service.”

  Danny let out a loud cackle.

  Jordan smiled tightly but didn’t answer his surly chef. There was no denying that hiring Madison Maurer was one of the best things he’d done to elevate Trophy Room from a standard bar to the gastropub he envisioned. But to say she was prickly made a cactus seem as soft as a kitten.

  Normally, Jordan took a hands-off approach to managing his staff. He hired good people and stayed out of their way so they could do the job. But if he couldn’t hold on to staff because Madison chased them away with her bad attitude, that was a problem.

  Add it to the list.

  He handed the bag to Nick and mentioned the extra wing sauce.

  “Brynn will be thrilled,” the police chief confirmed with a smile. “You okay, Schaeffer?”

  “Yeah. Peachy keen.” Seriously, what was wrong with Jordan that everyone could read his emotions so easily?

  “Nice crowd for a Thursday,” Nick commented, still studying him.

  “It’s the food, without a doubt.”

  “No one can resist Madi’s wings and sliders.”

 
“She’s got skills, that’s for sure.”

  “If you need anything, man, reach out. Okay?”

  “I’ll do that,” Jordan said, a bit of the tension in his chest loosening. He appreciated the reminder he wasn’t alone in facing the sudden complications of his life. He mainly kept to himself when he wasn’t working, but as a bar and restaurant owner, Jordan had gotten to know a lot of people in town. Good people. Caring people. People who would help build a community around his son.

  “How’s Remi?” he asked just as Nick turned for the door.

  The police chief grinned. “Sweeter by the day. She’s almost sitting up on her own. We’re hoping the adoption is finalized in the next couple of months.”

  Jordan leaned forward. “You made it seem so effortless, the instant family deal.”

  Just before Christmas last year, Nick and Brynn had taken in an abandoned baby, the child of Brynn’s late husband and the man’s mistress. The way Jordan understood it, Nick and Brynn had been close friends growing up, but they’d had a falling-out during high school. It had taken the baby to bring them together again, and now Jordan couldn’t imagine a happier family.

  He also couldn’t imagine that kind of future for himself, although becoming a father made him committed to try.

  “There’s definitely a lot of effort,” Nick answered with a laugh. “But it’s worth every moment.” He waved over his shoulder as he headed for the door.

  Jordan rubbed at his chest, where his heart seemed to beat an unsteady rhythm. Would he ever seem that comfortable with his role as a dad? He wanted to ask Nick how he’d managed instant parenthood, but things were still so tenuous with Cory. Maybe after the trip to Spokane, he’d have a better handle on what came next. Although, deep inside he knew his estranged father’s funeral wasn’t exactly the ideal place to gain emotional clarity.

  A couple approached the bar, and he greeted them with his usual smile. Even that took some effort, but it was his job. He just had to get through the next few days. He could imagine turmoil in his hometown since he’d been estranged from his family for years, but he’d manage it. Then he and Cory could work out their parenting arrangement. Things might feel complicated now, but they didn’t have to stay that way. He’d make sure of it.

  * * *

  “Are you sure this isn’t going to be weird?” Cory asked the next morning as they drove past a sign that announced they’d enter the town of Spokane in thirty miles.

  “I’m counting on it to be weird,” Jordan said, shooting her a duh glance. “That’s what’s going to take the attention off my return.”

  “Oh. Great.” Cory swiped her hand across the side of her mouth. “Now I’m really nervous. Any chance you packed a barf bag?”

  “No, but I can pull over if you’re going to puke.”

  “I was joking.”

  Jordan winked. “Me too. By the way, the dried drool is on the other cheek.”

  Heat infused Cory’s face as she pressed the sleeve of her sweatshirt to her cheek. “I didn’t sleep well last night,” she told Jordan. “Sorry I wasn’t a better driving companion.”

  “You were fine,” he said in that deep, rumbly voice. “Plus, it gave Ben and me time to get acquainted.”

  Cory huffed out a laugh and glanced into the back seat, where her son was racked out in his car seat.

  “Until he dozed off, as well,” Jordan admitted, one side of his mouth curving in a way that did funny things to her insides.

  “You’re quite stimulating,” she told him, earning a deep chuckle. She wasn’t sure whether the nerves zinging along her spine had more to do with anticipation of meeting Jordan’s family or the way he made her feel.

  “I’ll have to work on that.”

  “We need to get our story straight,” she reminded him.

  His smile faded. “It’s best not to offer too many details. We met in Atlanta, and now we have Ben.”

  She turned to face him, adjusting the lap belt as she shifted. “Your family’s not going to question you showing up with a six-month-old baby? Like maybe you would have mentioned it to them prior to now?”

  One bulky shoulder lifted and lowered. “I told you we aren’t close.”

  “Your mom not knowing she has a grandchild is a bit more than ‘not close,’” Cory felt compelled to point out. “Will she be upset we aren’t married?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Her stomach tightened at his response. “Will she want to have a relationship with Ben after this weekend?”

  “Good question.”

  “I have a million of them where that came from,” she said. “I don’t even know how your father died.”

  “Heart attack.”

  “Sudden.” She worried her lower lip between her teeth. There were so many potential potholes for her to tumble into this weekend, and based on the tight set of his jaw, Jordan was in no shape to help her navigate through it. In fact, she had the feeling she’d be the one supporting him and he’d need solace well beyond a distraction.

  “Can you answer a question with more than two words?” She was careful to make her voice light and was rewarded when his posture gentled somewhat.

  “I suppose so.”

  “A bonus word. Nice. I’m sorry about your father’s death,” she said, giving in to the urge to reach out and place her hand on his arm. Of course she should have expected the hard muscles under his jacket. He was a big guy and clearly still in great shape even after his injury and retirement from football. But the touch unsettled her just the same, although she didn’t release him. Cory knew what it was like to go through grief alone, and she didn’t want that for him. “For your loss.”

  He said nothing for several moments, and she wondered if she’d already overstepped the bounds of whatever nonrelationship they had.

  “It wasn’t a loss from my perspective,” he said tightly. “We didn’t have a relationship.”

  “Then I’m sorry for that.”

  He looked at her sharply, like he wanted to rebuke her for the expression of sympathy, but then shook his head. “My mom is sad. She sounds lost, and I don’t want that for her. I want her to know how much better off she is without him.”

  “How long were they married?”

  “Thirty-five years.”

  “And you’re thirty, right?” He’d told her his age when they met in Atlanta.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you have siblings?”

  “One brother. Max is twenty-five. My mom had trouble getting pregnant after me, and my parents had long stretches where they weren’t exactly close.”

  She wanted to ask more, but the air was already so charged. She feared he might shatter as he fought against the emotions she could almost see gripping him. Maybe asking about his brother would defuse some of the tension. “Does he play football?”

  Jordan shook his head. “No. He’s smart.”

  Cory wasn’t sure whether Jordan meant his brother was smart for not engaging in such a violent sport or was referring to Max’s intelligence in some other manner. Either way, she knew it was an implied criticism of himself, and that didn’t sit well.

  “I think we should stick to the truth as much as we can.” She lifted her hand from his arm, immediately missing the warmth that radiated from him like a space heater. “You might not be close to your family, but I’m not looking to cause them more pain or upset by getting caught in a lie. If we simply tell the truth about how we met—”

  “A party at your boyfriend’s house?” Jordan asked wryly.

  “We met in Atlanta during your football career,” Cory explained as if he hadn’t spoken. She didn’t want to revisit those nights of talking to Jordan out by the pool while everyone else partied inside the house. Her time with him had meant more than it should to her.

  He’d been kind and sweet, diametrically opposed to ho
w Kade treated her. It had been too easy to fantasize about how different her life might be if she was with someone like Jordan, and even then she’d realized how dangerous that train of thought could be.

  Even more now.

  “I think we stick with the story that Ben was a surprise—”

  “The understatement of the year,” Jordan muttered, flipping on his blinker to exit the highway.

  Heat crept up Cory’s neck, but she ignored it. “But he helped us realize we want to be together. That we’re a family.”

  Her words seemed to reverberate in the silence that followed.

  “Sure,” Jordan said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “We’ll be in and out for the service so quickly, the details won’t really matter.”

  Cory didn’t argue with him, although in her experience, the details always mattered.

  “This is a pretty town,” she murmured as he turned into a residential neighborhood of modest rows of homes, all with neat yards and fresh paint. “It must have been a big change for you coming to the South after growing up here.” She knew that before being drafted to Atlanta, he’d gone to college in Alabama.

  “The heat and humidity were hell my first preseason,” he admitted with a chuckle. “I must have puked during every practice, but I didn’t care. I was so damn happy to be away from here.”

  “And your dad?”

  A stiff nod.

  “We’ll get through this.” It was the mantra Cory had repeated to herself countless times in the past year and a half, but it felt strangely comforting to replace the singular pronoun for the plural we. It felt good not to be alone and to be able to offer support instead of being the one who needed it.

  She could see Jordan’s broad chest rising and falling in shallow breaths and wondered at his reaction. During the football season when they’d been friends, he’d shared enough of his family history that she understood he hadn’t remained close with his parents. He’d never mentioned having a brother. His reaction told her he’d left out some of the details of how bad it had been with his dad.